A Drift in the Deep
Disclaimer: In previous chapters.
A/N: Thanks always to my beta, Kasman. Big thanks again to those who have read and those who have reviewed. They have made writing this story a pleasure.
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Chapter 9 Dive Master
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Wheelhouse, Sea Duck, off Alki Point:
Max crept into the wheelhouse, moving in a slight crouch, balanced on the balls of her feet. Slowly, she straightened behind Steve, whose concentration was focused forward. Yet, something must have tickled that primitive part of his brain that let our ancient ancestors survive being stalked by dangerous predators. He turned. A look of surprise crossed his face for an instant as he caught a glimpse of the woman in black behind him before a fist connected with his jaw, knocking him back and to the side.
As Steve fell, he clutched the helm, pulling it down towards the right, causing the Sea Duck to heel over suddenly to starboard. Max, thrown of balance by the sudden shift in the position of the deck, landed hard against the radar housing, drawing a sharp hiss from her lips as hard metal impacted soft flesh. A groggy Steve was trying to pull himself upright when the hard rubber sole of a black boot connected with the side of his head and he slumped to the deck, releasing the wheel and allowing the boat to settle on a new course.
Max took several shallow breaths as she checked whether anything was broken. Relieved that everything was intact, she eventually became aware of the commotion coming from the direction of the lounge. Logan!
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Lounge of the Sea Duck:
Logan felt the cold hard metal of the pistol in his pocket.
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Flashback Logan's Apartment:
"Hey, Logan," Max called as she rounded the partition to his office.
Logan, with a startled look, threw a cloth over something lying on his desk.
Max cocked her head at his gesture but said nothing as she grabbed the desk chair, reversing it so the back faced him, and sat down.
"So, what brings you up here at this time of day," Logan asked, turning his chair to face her, a note of nervous curiosity in his voice.
"Well, if you hadn't noticed, it's raining cats and dogs out there," Max smiled, brushing water from her sleeve. She removed her soaking hat, rolled it up, and shoved it into a pocket with a small pout of distaste. "Wonder how that little phrase came about?" she added looking at him, her gaze probing.
Logan shrugged without comment.
Max stared at Logan for a second, then with a miniscule shrug she stood up, "Well, rain or shine, the mail's gotta get where it's gotta go," she said sarcastically. Turning the desk chair back around, she pushed it under the other table in the office.
"You hungry?" Logan asked hastily as he pushed his chair forward, "I was just about to make a sandwich…" he trailed off as Max turned her back to him.
"Don't wanna put you out," Max said over her shoulder as she headed for the front door.
"Max!" Logan called following her.
Max turned with a look of irritation, "Logan you don't have to hide your gun from me," her expression relaxed with a slight twitch of her lips. "I kick 'em, you grease 'em." With that she turned and opened the door. She glanced back at Logan, trying to read his expression, then with a shrug of one shoulder continued, "Normal can't fire a girl for seeking a port in a storm," she said stepping back and shutting the door with a slight push of her foot.
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It's a kick-or-be-kicked-in-the-ass world out there…out here. Logan pulled the gun from his pocket and held it in his lap covered by his hands.
Boris, Al and Greg entered the lounge, and walked towards Logan, "Hey, Cale, get yourself onto the back deck. Mr. Krane wants to talk to ya," Greg called with a sneer.
Logan hesitated. Damn! If he moved his hands the Vektor would be exposed.
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Back deck:
Krane turned to Gracey, "So, what's this new information you have?" he asked impatiently.
Gracey looked suspiciously towards the lounge doors, "You've got an informant in the crew. I've got some cop from Metro. snooping around the Marine Division asking about you…us," he said nodding towards the retreating backs.
Krane regarded him for a moment then looked towards the lounge with a thoughtful look.
Gracey shifted clumsily, trying to keep his balance as the boat rocked with the wash from the passing ship. "Who is this guy, Logan Cale?" he asked nervously, glancing at the man standing next to him.
Ignoring Gracey for the moment, Krane walked over to the empty tanks in their rack along the starboard side of the boat. "Hmmm. Could explain a few things…maybe he was meeting somebody here." Krane turned just as the Sea Duck heeled violently over to the right. Losing his balance, he went overboard with a curse.
Gracey, losing his footing, skidded towards the side, hitting the tank rack with a hard blow which prevented him going over the side as well.
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The Lounge:
Logan had shifted his hand to the grip and was starting to lift his pistol when the Sea Duck heeled over, throwing his chair over and Logan on to his back. As he hit the deck, just missing the edge of the bench with his head, he lost his grip on the gun which went skidding across the deck and under the table.
Greg, standing in front of Logan, stumbled over the chair, smashed his head into the side wall and slumped down, boneless, onto one of the benches. Boris, who had begun to edge around Logan's chair, fell into the passage, banging his shoulder into the edge of the door with a loud crack.
Al, who had paused just past the entrance to the lounge, crashed into the table and rolled over onto Logan who was unfortunate enough to have the wind knocked out of him.
As the boat righted itself, Greg's body rolled onto the floor with a thud and Boris began cursing as his injured shoulder banged into the wall behind him. Al pushed himself gingerly off Logan who grimaced where he lay on the floor of the lounge, a stunned expression on his face.
"Logan!" Max shouted down the passage a moment later.
"Who the hell are you, bitch?" Boris shouted at her approaching form.
Ignoring the injured man, Max ran into the lounge of the now stopped and drifting boat, fear and worry etched on her face. She stopped with an indrawn breath at the sight of Logan lying unmoving on the floor.
Just then, Boris grabbed her ankle. With silent rage, Max kicked back viciously, causing a sickening crack as the man's jaw broke and he slumped to the deck unconscious.
With fury in her eyes, Max advanced towards Al, who scrambled backwards on his rear, trying to escape the angel of death coming at him.
"Uhhh, Max?" Logan called softly from the deck.
Max stopped her advance on the luckless Al and turned with relief at the sound of her friend's voice. Thank God…or whatever angel looks out for you, Logan…If anything…. "Don't move," she growled at Al, who froze, seeing the fire in her eyes still blazing.
Stepping back, Max glanced down at Logan who returned her concerned look through narrowed eyes. "You okay?" she asked, her worry evident.
"Apart from feeling like a truck fell on me, yeah, I'm okay;" Logan replied, shifting his hands to drag himself backward as he tried to untangle himself from his wheelchair. "That was your plan? Dump everybody on their asses…" Logan asked with a pause and a wince as he bumped his head on the bench behind him.
Looking sheepish for a moment, Max reached down to pull Logan's chair away and set it upright, ready for him to transfer. "A plan never survives first contact with the enemy," she replied with a distant look in her eyes.
"Krane's gone over…who the hell are you?" Gracey asked leaning against the door frame of the lounge, blood dripping from his cheek. As Logan pulled himself up onto the bench, he looked over at the same time as Max, engaged in applying the brakes to the chair, turned. Gracey reached under his jacket, pulled out his Taurus 441 and leveled it at Max.
Al, sitting on the deck, looked over his shoulder at the cop standing there. "Where's Krane?" he asked. Gracey glanced down at the man on the floor in front of him. "He went overboard, I haven't seen him come up."
For a second, a look of relief flashed across Al's face as he slowly got to his knees. Gracey saw it. "You bastard!" he yelled. He turned his weapon from Max towards first Logan, then, as he swung it onto the man kneeling on the floor, he started to squeeze the trigger.
At that moment, Max moved, heading for the cop even as Logan shouted, "No!" Al reached under the table and grabbed Logan's gun, twisted and fired two rounds into Gracey. As the cop fell backward out the door, Max chopped down hard on Al's hand, causing the gun to drop. She quickly kicked it over to Logan.
"I said, 'don't move,'" Max snarled as she walked to the door and looked down at the dead cop impassively.
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Flashback: ditch along wooded road leading from Langford Prison:
Max stood looking down at the warden of Langford prison. All that was visible from under the car was a shoulder and his head, the eyes staring in disbelief.
"Max?" Original Cindy asked, shaken, as she walked over from the tree she had been hiding behind to stand next to her friend. "Damn, he don't look so good," she added, touched her forehead gingerly and winced.
Shaking her head, Max glanced over at her friend, "You 'kay?" her expression no longer one of bland indifference. Her worried look swept past her friend and around the trees lining the far side of the ditch, "Maria?"
"She's fine, left her back there just in case…besides, she don't need to see this," OC replied, finally tearing her eyes from the wreck.
"Let's go home," Max said walking over to the jeep and beginning to check it over.
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"That was some shooting," Max said.
"I was a marine for ten years," Al said with a shrug then with a shake of his head, "Who are you people?" he asked staring from Logan to Max nervously.
Max turned with a wince and a slight indrawn breath of pain at her injury from the bridge to see Logan now sitting in his chair, gun pointed loosely at Al who was kneeling on the deck.
Logan glanced over at Max, a frown of worry creasing his forehead at the sound of pain. He pushed his chair forward with a grunt as abused muscles protested.
"You okay?" they mouthed at each other at the same time. Their eyes met .
Finally, Max waved her hand in dismissal at Logan's concern. "I'm good…nothing Manticore resilience won't cure," she finally said, looking away slowly. We care so much. "You?"
"Nothing a relaxing bath won't cure," he replied looking away from the woman beside him with one eyebrow raised. If only it could.
Max nodded, her expression reflective, then knelt over Greg's limp body and checked his pulse. Two down…maybe three, if Krane drowned.
Logan had a questioning look in his eyes which took on a regretful hint as Max shook her head in answer. She removed the gun from the dead man's belt, opened the nearest lounge window and tossed it out. There was a splash. They turned their attention to Al, who was watching them closely.
"You work for Eyes Only?" Al asked, understanding lighting his features.
Max glanced at Logan with a quirk of her lips, "Quick."
With an exasperated look at her, "I've helped him a few times," Logan replied with a reassuring look at Al.
"Why did you come to the dock? I was about to pass on how Krane was smuggling the guns in," Al said with a wary look at Max, who glared at him, her fists clenched.
Max and Logan looked at each other then at Al, "Why now?" Max asked, annoyed. Because of you, Logan nearly got himself killed…
"Max, you better get back up to the bridge and get the GPS co-ordinates Krane must've programmed in there," Logan said with a nod of his head towards the passage from the lounge.
Max looked at him sharply, "We gotta get outta here."
"No argument there, but without those co-ordinates, we only have part of the puzzle."
Max looked between the two men then shrugged, "You got it covered here?"
"Yeah," Logan answered.
Max gave one final glare at Al who froze in place. As he began to get to his knees again, she turned and headed for the bridge.
"Better check on how we're gonna get away," Logan called out, giving the wheels of his chair a pat.
"There's an inflatable on the foredeck we sometimes use for diver recovery," Al spoke up.
"On it," Max replied in irritation, walking away down the dark passageway, ignoring the light switch and the inert form of Boris.
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Lounge:
"Some girlfriend you got," Al said watching her back as Max disappeared down the dark passage.
Logan turned his attention instantly to Al, struggling to calm his features, his green eyes behind his glasses shining. "She's a friend." A friend I care a lot more about than anyone…whatever that means.
Al dragged his attention back to Logan, catching something in his tone but meeting only a stony expression.
"So, why keep the information that Krane was using the tanks to hide the guns?" Logan asked, leaning forward in his chair, his gun in his hand again.
Al sat back in surprise, then nodded. "I only just found out. Krane had me working at the uptown store. This was supposed to be my first trip as part of the recovery team. I've handled the guns after they arrived…I just assumed he was paying the cop off," Al said, tossing his head towards the body behind him, then shuddered. "I killed him," he added in a low voice, his head bowed.
Logan shook his head, "You had to do it." Could I have done it…even to protect Max? At least you'll never have to find out now.
Al looked up, "What's gonna happen to me?"
Logan smiled slightly, "We're getting off this boat and then well see about later."
Both men cocked their heads at the sound of the electric winch starting up.
"I should go and help your friend," Al said, beginning to stand up again.
For a moment, Logan looked at the man in front of him suspiciously. His hand gripped his pistol a little tighter, then he relaxed and smile quirked his lips. "I wouldn't bother her right now," he said.
Al paused as the sound of the winch stopped. For a long moment, there was silence. He shrugged and leaned against the table.
Logan slipped his gun into his jacket pocket. At that moment, there was the thump of boots hitting the back deck.
"We're all set to go," Max said and looked at the standing Al with scowl.
Logan pushed himself forward, "We could stay. If Matt got on to the Coast Guard, he'll cover for us…"
"Logan, do you really want to explain how you and I…and he took out," Max nodded towards Al, "this whole crew and why we were here in the first place?"
A stubborn expression settled on Logan's face as his shoulders tensed.
"She's right. I don't want to be around if Krane's still alive," Al said, nodding to Gracey's body, just visible behind Max.
Logan still looked intransient. Al seemed ready to run. Max sighed, realizing Logan's problem. "Al, I need you to find us something we can put Logan's chair pieces in that won't let it puncture the Zodiac."
Al looked over at the wheelchair and nodded, "Does it breakdown?" he asked Logan.
Logan nodded, not taking his eyes of Max who stood there returning his stubborn stare with one of her own.
Al pushed away from the table with a glance at Max. "May have something in the paint locker," he said, his tone asking permission of the woman who was obviously not somebody you wanted to mess with.
"Get it," she said her gaze still locked with the man in the wheelchair.
Al eased past Logan, switched on the passage light, and disappeared forward.
"Come on, I can get you into the inflatable before he gets back," Max said stepping out of Logan's way.
His left hand rested on the rim of the wheel as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Max…"
"Logan, we trained as buddies to go diving, so let me do my job," Max said with emphasis.
Logan sighed, "Fine…let's get outta here." He pushed himself out onto the back deck, maneuvering around Gracey. A look of sorrow flicked across his face as he looked down at the dead cop for a moment.
Max watched him pass. You care even about the bad guys…yet, I don't think you would have hesitated to shoot him.
At the back of the deck, Logan looked down at the bobbing inflatable boat. Max walked over to stand next to him.
"You ready?" she asked with a grin.
At the sound of merriment in her question, Logan looked up with a puzzled expression.
Max leaned forward and pressed a large button on the sidewall. The stern wall began to flatten out, revealing itself to be a lift-platform. Logan rolled back with surprise, "Ingenious…you knew this, didn't you?" he asked.
Max shrugged. "Didn't you?" she asked surprised.
With an abashed expression, Logan rolled forward onto the ramp. "I forgot," he murmured under his breath.
"Good thing I stuck around, then," Max muttered slightly louder, hearing him despite the hum of the ramp machinery.
"Glad you did," Logan said louder, a catch in his throat, his gaze still fixed on the sea. You not being around is not something I want to think about, but it will happen one day.
Max stared at his back. "So am I," she whispered. Is this what love is, caring for somebody not wanting to leave them ever?
Either sensing her gaze or just being impatient now that there was a way to transfer to the smaller boat in a dignified way, Logan looked back at Max and saw something in her expression. "What?" he asked, not sure of what he had seen.
"You ready?" Max asked, looking away. "I've secured the boat to make it easier to transfer," she added.
Logan nodded reluctantly and then gripped his rims reflexively as the ramp started down with a jerk. As he descended past the transom, he looked over quickly at Max in accusation. She smiled sheepishly.
With another jerk, thelift-platform stopped level with the inflatable. A faint call of, "Sorry," came from above.
"Think they could have serviced this thing better," Logan muttered.
"Did you say something?" Max asked looking over the stern.
Logan eased the brakes off and pushed himself to the edge of the platform, which was slightly above the tube. Locking his brakes again, he stared at the slightly bobbing small boat then looked up at the face above.
Max looked down and saw the embarrassment and something else…something that looked too much like shame…flash across the handsome features. She stepped back quickly, her emotions surging.
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Flashback Jam Pony:
"This man is deep," Sketchy said, Natalie sanding at his side.
"...very obviously dirty," The image on the TV continued to say.
"No, you're easy." Max responded with contempt as she looked up at the screen.
"He ever been wrong about anything?" her co-worker asked.
"He's on the hustle, same as everyone else," she replied continuing to fill out her work sheet.
"Shh! Doesn't mean he's not telling the truth," Druid called from in front of the TV.
"Journalists who have attempted to expose him have been gunned down in the street. Their blood is the ink of our modern news. Those who've opposed him have vanished. All of that is about to change," Eyes Only continued to say on the TV.
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You have nothing to be ashamed about, Logan…still too much trying to save the world and not enough left over for yourself…But I've got you covered from now on.
"This should do," Al said, walking out onto the back deck with a large tarp, a slightly frayed rope threaded through the eyelets.
"Yeah," Max said holding up her hand to stop Al's advance towards the stern. At the faint sound of something falling and a short curse, Max, dropped her hand and stepped towards the stern, followed by Al, who looked at her curiously.
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The lift-platform
As Max stepped out of his sight, Logan leaned back with a sigh. What do you really see, Max?
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Flashback: front door Logan's apartment:
"You think he can help you with your seizures?" Logan asked.
"Worth looking into. You know, you oughta come down there with me. Dr. Tanaka talks about how, by using the body's genetic blueprints, it can re-engineer itself. I mean, if the man's on the level, you'd be walking around in no time," she replied, a small inflection of hope offered in her voice.
"You know what, Max, I'm having a hard enough time dealing with the here and now. You want to go listen to whatever pie-in-the-sky Dr. Feelgood's hustling, be my guest. Just leave me out of it, okay?" he snapped angrily.
Stunned, Max stared at him, "Okay. I was just..." she began apologetically.
"Just don't," Logan said cutting her off, and then opened the door, "I'll call you if I can swing the conference thing."
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Lydecker seemed to think there was something to it, but Max never said either way. Why should she, after my being pissy about an offer from a friend. Logan sighed again and eased himself out of his chair down onto the cold platform. He lifted his legs one at a time, hooked them over the tube, and waited for the up and down movement of the two boats nearly matched, then with a quick shove against the platform, slipped over into the inflatable and landed on the floor boards with a faint thump, banging his elbow. "Damn!" he exclaimed involuntarily at the sharp pain.
"You okay down there, man?" Al called, looking down at Logan who had straightened up with his back now against the floatation tube, "Fine, just peachy," he replied.
Max, standing beside Al, grinned, "Let's go before he decides to leave us behind," she said, drawing a shocked look from Al and a peeved snort from Logan.
"He wouldn't leave us…you behind?" Al asked, worried.
Max laughed out load, and looked down at Logan fondly for a moment, "Not likely," she said under her breath. Max slid down the ladder at the stern and onto the platform. She quickly broke down Logan's chair and placed the pieces in the canvas tarp/sack Al had found.
Al slid down the ladder behind her and into the smaller boat where he quickly checked the fuel tank and the small outboard motor.
She placed the sack next to Logan and then hesitated, "Hold the bus," she said, and raced back up the ladder.
"Max?" Logan called, "Max, lets go!" Logan called as there was a loud metallic sound from above.
Max came back down the ladder with a grin and eased her self into the inflatable as theplatform started to rise. "Left something to point the Coast Guard or the police in the direction of Krane's schemes," she said with a shrug.
Logan nodded, "And with the GPS co-ordinates that should stop him de…" Logan stopped, staring at what had popped up from under the dive boat and was drifting towards them
The other two followed his gaze and saw the body floating face down in the water as it slowly drifted past the stern of the Sea Duck
Max unfastened the line at the bow and nodded to Al who started the engine and undid the one at the stern. Slowly, he opened the throttle, and they moved towards the man in the water.
Al put the engine in neutral as they approached. Max reached over and grabbed Krane's jacket. She turned the body over and then released it quickly in shock at the horror she saw. She grabbed it again and looked down at the dead man. Well, you won't be peddling death anymore.
Logan took one glance at what Max held and tried to swallow the bile that rose into his throat.
Al, his view blocked by Max, started to ease forward until Logan shook his head and placed his hand on the others man's leg. Al nodded and sat back. Max turned to look at Logan then, without a word, released the remains of the arms dealer. "Let's get to shore," she said tightly.
Al opened the throttle and pointed the bow towards what used to be Alki Beach Park. Little was said on the journey. They finally reached the beach just as the first rays of dawn appeared.
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A/N: Thanks Kyre for pointing out amisuse of a technical term. been corrected.
TBC
